


Involuntary

by GabsHardy



Category: NCIS
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-21
Updated: 2014-02-21
Packaged: 2018-01-13 06:13:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 834
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1215667
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GabsHardy/pseuds/GabsHardy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The stages of drowning have never been more applicable.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Involuntary

**Author's Note:**

> I miss my girl Ziva. As it turns out, so does Tony. This is a disjointed and rambly exploration of his thoughts on the drowning process as it relates to our favorite ninja.

You dated this girl in college. 4, maybe 5 months in the winter of your final year. She was tall and tan... blonde and blue-eyed... everything you thought was the American Ideal.

(She was also strikingly intelligent, but it would be many years before that was a quality that cracked your top five list in a woman.)

Her name was Anna, and she'd spent every summer of her high school and college as a lifeguard at a local waterpark. You haven't thought of that – or her, really – in years, but as you stare blindly at two fish lazily swimming around in circles, it suddenly comes to mind. That winter you dated, she'd been preparing to become a lifeguard instructor, and she'd spent more than a few nights practicing her teaching skills on you.

(CPR had been fun. You're pretty sure that wasn't how they taught it in class, but you weren't going to argue.)

But that isn't what has you reflecting on Anna and lifeguard teaching right now. Something she talked about one night has suddenly stuck in your mind and is refusing to let go.

Involuntary breath holding.

Three simple words. (Isn't it always? Especially with Ziva.) Involuntary breath holding. You recall it as a stage in the drowning process, immediately following surprise. You're pretty sure there's nothing that can better sum up your own state right now. If life was a pool, you would've drifted to the bottom months ago. Your 'surprise' stage had lasted through the summer heat, and as the cooling waves of autumn had washed over you, involuntary breath holding had set in.

It hasn't let up since. It is – obviously – not intentional. You'd love nothing more than to take a deep breath, clear your head, and make your way to shore. But there's no light to guide you now; she's oceans away, and she needs to find her own way before she can even think about helping you find yours.

(You just hope she's going to do that too, someday.)

Since she's been gone, the world has been duller, less clear. You've had some experience with this phenomenon before. At least this time, you know she's still alive, and you know she's ok. Or at least working towards it. This has allowed the team to move on, professionally speaking. Bishop isn't bad, but... she isn't Ziva. Ziva David is not replaceable, and that's never been more true.

Personally... you're still holding your breath. You don't know how to do anything else, at this point. You're functional – quite the accomplishment for a drowning man – and that's about the best you can offer right now. They accept it, maybe even understand it. Nobody is concerned enough to start throwing you lifelines quite yet.

You accept and understand her choice; you never would have gotten on that plane otherwise. But that doesn't stop you from holding your breath (just a little more) with every "maybe" that passes by.

"Maybe" the end of the summer is all she'll need. _(It's not.)_

"Maybe" Thanksgiving will remind her of what she still has, what she's missing out on. _(It doesn't.)_

"Maybe" she'll bring you the best Christmas gift you could ask for, the only one you'll ever need. _(She won't.)_

"Maybe" the New Year can be a new start for her too, one she'll be willing to make here, where she belongs. _(It can't.)_

"Maybe" for Valentine's... well, now you're grasping at straws.

So here you sit, months without her. Months without breath. Months without focus. You know it's a sign of drowning, but you also wonder if it's a sign of insanity. She still affects you this way, and yet you still think she's the best thing that's ever happened to you.

Even when (if?) she comes back, you're not sure you'll ever share these insights on drowning. This time away is about her; the last thing you want is to make it about you. Wasn't that part of the problem to begin with? She's never been able to figure out where the wants of others ended and she began. You, however, have been largely the opposite of that for most of your life. Others were for so long secondary to You. Perhaps it should concern you, how very much of this latest version of You is tied so intrinsically to Her.

(Perhaps it should, but it doesn't. There's no reason to think it ever will.)

She's a part of you now. You need her like... well, like a drowning man needs air. (You think you're going overboard with this metaphor, now. No pun intended.)

And so you sit, watching two fish lazily swimming in circles. Swimming with no fear of drowning. You're almost jealous. But if an extended period of involuntary breath holding is the cost of loving her, you'll pay it. You'll hold as long as you need to. Because yeah, it might hurt right now, but the hope of rescue, of the chance to finally breathe again...

it's worth it.


End file.
